If I Were An Onion...

2 Peter 1:8

For if you possess these qualities and continue to grow in them, 

they will keep you from being ineffective and unproductive

 in your knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ.

2 Pet.3:18

But grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

 To him be glory both now and forever! 

Amen.

Seeds that don't grow or bear fruit are good-for-nothing.

Which onion are we?

The onions I planted this year have not grown at all!

As I started pulling them in disappointed frustration

the thought struck me. 

Is this what God will pluck up when my life is over

or will I be a big, round Fruitful Onion?

(like the ones I purchased)

What a waste and pity

Seeds that never sprout

Always just a gritty-bitty

Shadow of a doubt

What a futile effort

After sun and rain

Not even a hint of fruit

Planted, but in vain

What a shameful outcome

Fruitless all the way

Still the same at harvest-time

As on planting day

© Janet Martin

John 15:2

Every branch in Me that does not bear fruit He takes away; 

and every branch that bears fruit He prunes, that it may bear more fruit.

 

Faithful is God or We Are Not Helpless. Hallelujah!

A guttural *helpless, heart-cry best describes my prayers this morning

for a world groaning in tribulation...

For Afghanistan, Haiti, Somalia,

(just a sad few of the many countries in dire distress)

Earthquakes, floods and wildfires rage.

Terrorists torture and terrorize.

Sickness and sorrow burdens.

America and Canada grow ever colder to the

Faith these countries were founded on

boldly proud and blind to the reaping of godless sowing!

God is not mocked

*But we are not helpless!

Hallelujah.

Deuteronomy 4:7

For what nation is great enough to have a god as near to them

as the LORD our God is to us whenever we call on Him?

Psalm 46:1-3 –

 "God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.

 Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way 

and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, 

though its waters roar and foam 

and the mountains quake with their surging."

Oh God, Our Help in Ages Past

The battleground that keeps us bound toward Reward’s indemnity

Is fraught with what we ought to do and snares set by the enemy

Soon evidence through recompense from seed of word and deed is shown

What was concealed will be revealed for by the fruit the tree is known

Oh Lord, increase Your peace in us as we trust, whether old or youth

Broad is the way where demons prey on those who stray from Steadfast Truth

Your Word is sure; all will endure who feast upon Thy Bread of Life

The pure in heart will not depart from You though evil’s ruse runs rife

Desire’s vice and sacrifice no one beholds in full but He

Who authors birth and instills worth to we, prone to depravity

Where we all prove who we most love by the testimony of choice

Oh God, forbid Your light is hid by its indisputable voice

This battleground of sight and sound confounds the intellectual

*But corruption cannot corrupt that which is Incorruptible

Faithful is God, no matter what the godless, blood-thirsty reply

Be of good cheer, He bends his ear to hear faith’s guttural heart-cry

© Janet Martin

*Line from a sermon recently

Another hope-filled Hymn

Behold Our God

Psalm 18:6-19 –

 "In my distress I called upon the Lord; to my God I cried for help.

From His temple he heard my voice, and my cry to Him reached His ears. 

Then the earth reeled and rocked; the foundations also of the mountains trembled and quaked, 

because He was angry. 

Smoke went up from His nostrils, and devouring fire from His mouth; 

glowing coals flamed forth from Him. He bowed the heavens and came down; 

thick darkness was under His feet. He rode on a cherub and flew;

 He came swiftly on the wings of the wind. 

He made darkness His covering, 

His canopy around Him, thick clouds dark with water.

 Out of the brightness before Him hailstones and coals of fire broke through His clouds.

 The Lord also thundered in the heavens, 

and the Most High uttered His voice, hailstones and coals of fire.

 And He sent out his arrows and scattered them; 

he flashed forth lightnings and routed them. 

Then the channels of the sea were seen,

 and the foundations of the world were laid bare at your rebuke,

 O Lord, at the blast of the breath of your nostrils. 

He sent from on high, He took me; He drew me out of many waters.

 He rescued me from my strong enemy and from those who hated me,

 for they were too mighty for me. 

They confronted me in the day of my calamity, 

but the Lord was my support. 

He brought me out into a broad place;

 He rescued me, because He delighted in me."

August-Anthem

 This morning's sunrise parted night's skies in a blaze of glory!

'Dawn is a tango of coral and mango'...

The first line of this poem was snared on Saturday as I returned from errands

but didn't have the freedom to see where it's lure would lead...

this stunner of a day break broke the song wide-open!

Beauty bewitches where flower-wild ditches

Brim with glad hymns rousing heart’s pure delight

Time sings in petals hoisting summer’s medals

In celebration of bloom’s fleeting flight

Joy thrills with pleasure as gardens spill treasure

Backyard vacations are second to none

Rippling vibratos of cricket-concertos

Leaf marquees lure us from sizzle of sun

Harvest increases worship’s masterpieces

Countryside canvases spark reverence

Gratitude thunders where seed’s timeless wonders

Fill fallow frames with God’s benevolence

Dawn is a tango of coral and mango

Waking a dazzling world, dew-diamond starred

August entices with scents; pickling spices

Heady aromas, baked, barbecued, jarred

Nature’s enchanter tips heaven’s decanter

Sunshine and rain compose prize-poetry

Earth is a palace, each bloom like a chalice

Sparkling with sup for butterfly and bee

Breeze-musky minstrels strum corn tassel-tinsel

Labor is sweet as we glean fruit of toil

August is always a room full of hallways

Leading us through summer’s milestones of spoil

August composes with stubble and roses

Ballads that tremble on tender heart-strings

Stirring our senses with stayed recompenses

Borne on the mercy of morn’s welkin wings

Keeping us grateful for summer’s still-plate-full

Of flowered hours not yet bent and spent

Of sun-steeped laughter that lingers long after

August has folded its gold and blue tent

© Janet Martin

Keeping us grateful for summer’s still-plate-full

Of flowered hours not yet bent and spent

Of sun-steeped laughter that lingers long after

August has folded its gold and blue tent...

Backyard vacations are second to none...

below...looking for the stick that got lobbed awry!

Eccles.3:1-2

To every thing there is a season, 

and a time to every purpose under the heaven:

 A time to be born, and a time to die;

a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;

God Himself...

How easy it would be to become disillusioned by what we see

if not rooted in what we know, because God said so.

Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, 

and a light unto my path.

Psalm 119:105

John 16:33

I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace.

 In this world you will have trouble. 

But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

When tried by disappointment’s test and vexed by plans upset

When waves of want for what seems best roll through prayers still unmet

When second chance and circumstance grant opportunity

To seize anew the Hope God grants to cheer adversity

Then pray we hold more near and dear the Lantern of his Word

To light faith’s path lest footsteps veer because vision is blurred

To light faith’s path lest footsteps veer because vision is blurred

Requires more than the veneer of valor undeterred

Without God’s Word life’s storms are ruthless, tossing to and fro

The soul not rooted in His Truth that none can overthrow

Then pray, we repent and believe so that we may endure

With more to cling to than the sheave that death cannot secure

With more to cling to than the sheave that death cannot secure

Though disappointment’s test may grieve and morrows are unsure

We have hope’s confidence that nothing in this world can shake

While we long for deliverance from anguish and heartbreak

His Word is a lamp to our feet, a Light unto our path

And God Himself until we meet in Time’s Grand Aftermath

…and God Himself until we meet in Time’s Grand Aftermath

Where nothing remains to compete with love’s mercy or wrath

Then, lest disenchantment and doubt should cause our foot to slip

Do not begin today without God’s Word to full-equip

Then, come what may the dark cannot triumph the Light of All

As we press on toward the mark for the prize of God’s call

© Janet Martin

Moment-ous Measure, (Time's Good Treasure)

This poem, Like Sparkles on a Surging Swell, came up on my blog-dashboard

 this morning because someone clicked on it,

amplifying my annual August lament...

as summer's fading fringes become more apparent

Then my sister sent me this photo of a long-ago vacation.

 It fell out from behind a drawer as she cleaned out the cupboards to prepare for a kitchen-reno

(all these kids now dealing with the season of young adulthood with all its challenges and joys )

Emotion-ocean 

begged 

to be poured into 

poem

Moments murmur, full of summer flowing out of reach and sight

Sometimes seems like dreams-come-true slip through our bearing overnight

Laughter ripples, echoes stipple streams once rushing raw and rife

Where an ocean of emotion rolls across shorelines of life

Moment-measure spills in treasure that soon other moments steal

Such a touch-and-taste-good-pleasure, sparkling like a rhinestone-reel

Carousels of fare-thee-well twirl where hello’s fond friendships meld

With time’s tinctures painting pictures of seasons so briefly held

Momentum of here-they-come and there-they-go, oh, me-oh-my

Sparks a hunger for the younger afternoons of mid-July

Yet, soft-kindles, with what dwindles in the middle of lament

Awed awareness of the rareness of today’s precious present

Moments meter bitter, sweeter, who knows what they hold in store

Makes us cherish what will perish on dusk’s silhouette-scaped shore

While the Giver of this river full of Time’s momentous tow

Brightens duty with the beauty of what new moments bestow

Moments marble gold and purple with more muted shades of gray

Bygone's coffers brim with offers on breath-banners of new day

Longing wrangles with what tangles heart-strings into Wonder's Birth

Teaching us to treasure the good measure of a moment's worth

© Janet Martin

Bygone's coffers brim with offers on breath-banners of new day...

Forever-Gratefulness (for sisters)

This poem was inspired by the past week or two

by my sisters (and sister-in-laws that feel like sisters💗)

The main difference with sister-in-laws is that they had to learn to

tolerate if not appreciate Martin-girl quirks😉

*cucumbers from Lucy

Last year for Carolyn's 50th we enjoyed a day out together ( a rare occasion/delight)

We share garden-fare overflow

Cucumbers, beans and flower-slips

The brunt of high-five and low blow

Recipes, cleaning-canning-tips

We share our cares and prayer requests

Milestones, updates and poetry

And lend a hand when life upsets

Love’s heart-cart full of family

Laughter and tears are understood

As the firm hand of time’s finesse

Strengthens the bond of sisterhood

With fond, forever-gratefulness

We share the love of mom and dad

And years where childhood echoes drift

We share the joy of Humbly Glad

And thank God for each sister-gift

© Janet Martin

Each sister fills a special place.

As I reflected over just the past couple weeks

I realized how easily I could take for granted this

huge blessing as we exchanged recipes

such as how to get creative with zucchini etc.

One evening when I returned home from getting groceries Victoria said,

"Cheryl called. She said she will call back.

something about sharing something she read 

that she thought you would enjoy!

(and she did call back and I did enjoy it)

*Right now I am canning

 over-flow-from-her-garden cucumbers from Lucy. 

Our family is enjoying wedding leftovers Carolyn dropped off.

Marlene took some beans off my hands the other day,

not afraid to ask 'do you have any to spare for our supper?'

If We Have Ears To Hear...

A glimpse of today's melody-notes falling and fading!

It's a breath-taking medley of clash-and-meld,

Can you hear it too?

I hope so💗

(so don't just see these pictures, hear them!😊)

'It lilts in lyrics, swing-song sweet... 

(every time Mrs. Swing-pusher takes the teeniest pause

Miss Swing-rider whips her head around to see what's up. lol!!!)

And sparkles in splash aftermath'

...keeping up with these colorful feet is a fulltime percussion piece😄

(doesn't seeing her footwear choice just make your day?!)

If we have ears to hear, my dear,

The melody of land and sea

That sweeps through trees, against the pier

And cheeps in cricket tiralee

That plops from raindrop-wells, aloft

In apples, decking orchard floors

That purrs in fur-balls, kitten-soft

Or in the jungle-kingdom, roars

That giggles from a little girl

And ripples in the silver heath

That tumbles from rock-heights to swirl

And thunder in chasms beneath

That clinks from spoons in mugs or cups

As we stir coffee, fresh-steeped chai

And chat about life’s downs and ups

…hushed in dusk’s deep blue lullaby

That sighs in anthems overhead

As leaf-song crescendos and wanes

Until all that we hear instead

Is pelting sleet on windowpanes

…that buzzes in the bumbling bee

And steals our breath with call of loon 

And drones in August's drowsy tree

As cicadas hail hot high noon

That lilts in lyrics, swing-song sweet

And sparkles in splash aftermath

That thrums in banter of bare feet

That dash down childhood's garden path

That spills in trills from feathered throats

That rolls in deeps across the sand

That broods in misty music-notes

That fold away the day in hand

That rustles in the turn of page

That bustles in work-a-day dash

As tick by tock we earn the wage

That soon settles in dust and ash

If we are given ears to hear

Melodies that make us rejoice 

How terrible, t’would be, my dear

To miss The Author's still small voice

...and never, with devoted tears

Thank Him for living's symphony

So we may taste, if but with ears 

Faint fringes of His majesty 

© Janet Martin

And one little music-splash from yesterday...

2 Kings 19:11-13 BSB

The LORD Speaks to Elijah at Horeb
…11Then the LORD said, “Go out and stand on the mountain before the LORD. Behold, the LORD is about to pass by.” And a great and mighty wind tore into the mountains and shattered the rocks before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake. 12After the earthquake there was a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire came a still, small voice. 13When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his cloak and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave. 

Suddenly a voice came to him and said, “What are you doing here, Elijah?”…

These Stairs We Climb (that look like Time)

This blur we call summer trembles with cricket-song

reminding us of words like 'was' and 'so-long'...

Now that's a 'hill of beans'  said Victoria

when she saw today's task on the table this morning😊

We are abundantly blessed with garden-treasure once again!

Thank-you, Lord

Life is offering almost more task than time these days!

By the grace of God and for His glory, 

off we go on another work-a-day adventure!

This thoroughfare of morrows where time’s seasons strew behind

Like harvest dust, rouses in us loss and gain intertwined

The give and take of dusk and daybreak’s easy ebb and flow

Falls through a fleet of hands and feet like little stars of snow

…where we are always learning, yearning, turning older, oh

Where wonder thunders in our veins as nature steals the show

Where we begin to feel the closing in of shadow-sighs

Yet feel like kings where simple things are life’s most treasured prize

The quiet grace of garden spaces soothes the wounds within

The rush of leaves before the sheaves are gleaned and gathered in

The cooing of the mourning dove, the cricket’s cheep-cheep-cheep

Like minstrels in a symphony that lulls the land to sleep

The tender tug as kiss and hug wears holes right through our hearts

Where planting and the granting of its fruit fills more than carts

Where holy is the toll that rolls from east to west until

The hours cease that lend the lease that numbered days fulfill

This more-than-meets-the-eye, hello, good-bye, this touch and taste

Runs through our forms in sparkle-storms of subtle season-haste

Where we will find sweet peace of mind through thick and thin of days

As we commit the whole of it to God in hymns of praise

As we delight in what is right and leave the rest to He

Who sees beyond the flower-frond of our mortality

Where hope and trust are more than dust that settles in the grave

Where stairs we climb that look like Time lead back to He who gave

© Janet Martin

  “Whether therefore ye eat, or drink, 

or whatsoever ye do, 

do all to the glory of God.” 

1 Corinthians 10:31.

Remember when time seemed to crawl?

Little Girl is eagerly counting the days till she can be a school-girl!

Me? I want to cry 'slow down'

Let me linger over dinners and dreams!